Voidsteel Soulblade: Ibram bears this blade with pride; it was his reward for single-handedly sevaling a break in the Flow of Life which had caused a swell of energy to infest the dead yards, stopping the swarm of newly-animated zombies by shearing off the font of the energy which reanimated them. The blade itself is a bastard sword, able to be wielded either one or two handed, the grip formed from polished ebonwood and the guard fashioned from tempered mithril set in the shape of a Daemonic Skull. The horns which spiral out from the skulls base from the cross-guard, and the blade itself measures almost 3 1/2 feet in length.http://image2.sina.com.cn/gm/z/war3/...0410091855.jpg

Tinderbox
flint
A small coinpouch, containing a meager sum of gold.
Three blackened, hidebound tomes taken from the Crypt, the tomb in which the Terrorguard houses it's most ancient, forlorn secrets. The pages reveal their secrets as the reader progresses in power and understanding; a failsafe, should a thief or one outside the Knighthood try and look upon the ancient secrets.

A ragged bedroll intended for someone half his size, which he keeps tied to his skeletal steeds saddlepack.

MOUNT: Ibram rides a skeletal steed, a beast of his own creation. The creature is utterly loyal to him, and will run without tiring, until either it's bones give out or the energy which sustains it is entirely used up.

DESCRIPTION: Ibram is lean and tall, his 6'3 ft frame built lean and whiplike. His features are handsome in the same way that snakes and well-kept weapons are handsome; cold and dangerous. He cares little for vanity, however, keeping his raven-black hair sheared off roughly at mid-neck. His eyes are sharp and cold, a stern ice-blue.

HISTORY: ((It's absolute shit, I know, but I want to try and develop him further in-character >_<)

Ibram forsoke his mortal life for the power which Undead offered when he was but 15 years old, answering the Xithan Terrorguard's call for raw recruits to join their ranks. Apprenticed to one of the Terrorguard's Tomb Lords, he drank in the knowledge bestowed upon him, taking everything which was taught in stride. His appetite for Necromantic knowledge was voracious, and he progressed at a far rapid rate than the other Neophytes. But this would prove to be his undoing; he delved too deep, read ancient works penned by Those From Outside, scrolls which were not meant for mortal eyes.

What he learned from them scarred his mind irrevocably. Worse still, the next day the Crypt Keepers discovered that the ancient tomes had been disturbed; one unworthy of their knowledge had dared glimpse at the forbidden secrets. Knowing full well that they would kill him if they discovered that he, a mere neophyte, had looked upon the unholy relics, Ibram packed up what little he possessed and fled the Deadlands, riding his rotting steed northwards. He knew not where he was going, as long as it was far, far away from where he'd come.

Ibram has been running for almost three months now. He hopes against reason that, by proving himself in wild, he will be able to return and beg forgiveness from the Crypt Lords; at least, that's what he tells himself. He knows full well that he can never return, can never show his face in the Deadlands again without the chance of recognition.

__________________
Paranoia is a comforting state of mind. If you think they're out to get you, it means you think you matter.

Description: Fremen is fairly short and has a thin figure. His burly arms and shoulders come as no surprise for men who spend the greater part of their lives wielding an axe or sword (Like Fremen) usually end up with powerful muscles in their arms. Fremenís height is highly irregular for a Warmaster as he is only about 5.6f. Yet he wields his weapons and holds his seat in the saddle as well as any man and is always seen riding at the head of his soldiers. Fremenís skin is fair and he has piercing blue eyes which shine brightly when he is happy, which is often.

Equipment: Fremenís equipment is constantly changing as he acquires more money to afford better stuff, at the present time he is equipped with Crimson Guard Mithril Warblades (Which symbolise that he belongs to the Crimson Guard) He is girded in heavy Mithril platemail and a kite shield (Which is usually slung over his back) Fremen also keeps a spare round buckler on his horse for emergencies. His horse is an excellent mount that can bear incredibly heavy loads, Fremen knows him as Warrior and the horse is his constant companion. Fremen sometimes bears the nickname of ĎThe Horse Whispererí from his soldiers due to an alleged telepathic connection between Fremen and Warrior. Fremen commands a Phalanx of seasoned warriors called the Twelfth Phalanx, it consists of 210 warriors and all of these men are equipped with runesteel longswords (their primary weapon) a small steel dagger and are girded with Runesteel armour and depending on their status in the unit, it is either plate or chainmail. Their shields are usually steel tower shields.

History: Fremen was born in the northern city of Hearthfire; his father was called Ahedros Talla and was a well respected Skyguard. Ahedrosís wife fell pregnant around the time of Ahedrosís death. Ahedros was on patrol over the Skyclaw Ridge Mountains when he flew over a group of Rivana Mercenary archers, they fired an arrow which penetrated his griffinís heart, as the griffin lurched, Ahedros managed to kick free of his stirrups and escaped being pinned when his mount fell. Driven almost insane by the loss of his mount, Ahedros fled, carrying his dead friend with him. The mercenaries pursued Ahedros into a deep dark cave. When Ahedros attacked the men he was cut down through sheer weight of numbers. Fremen was born and raised by his mother; he had ambitions when he was younger of becoming a Skyguard like the father he never knew. However he soon became interested in the lives of the Warmasters, he had seen them on patrol and when he actually summoned up the courage to ask when of them about the life they led they unkindly laughed at him. Undeterred, Fremen began an exploration into the lives of the Warmasters. Finally he asked his mother what his father would have thought of him becoming a Warmaster, the only question he had ever asked his mother about his father. His mother said that his father would be proud no matter what option he chose. At the age of sixteen Fremen was conscripted into levy service in the army. After his two months of training he discovered a band of untrained louts whom he equipped, fed and declared his own. Although the circumstances were unusual, Fremen was promoted to the rank of Corporal and the King of the Humans agreed to give Fremen command of the men. Fremen and his soldiers fought together on many campaigns and wars and the bond of friendship between Fremen and his soldiers has endured through Fremenís promotion to Sergeant then to Lieutenant and then to Captain. Fremenís original squad members are now the officers of the Twelfth Phalanx (which is the unit Fremen commands) Fremen left and sailed across the great sea in search of threats unknown. The Twelfth Phalanx was given a garrison officer to replace him. He let them go soft with almost no proper military drill. Fremen returned, shortly before his twenty ninth birthday. He reassumed command of the Twelfth Phalanx and proceeded to get them into shape again. Fremen continues in his never-ending quest for the destruction of evil to this day.

Name:Deyvid Hunter (Famous family of hunters and also the clan of nocturnal invaders and guards)Age: 20 yearsGender:MaleRace:HumanClass:Infiltrator

Weapons:Deyvid usually use large blades to keep a certain distance of a safety battle, but know potencialemente use a small blade or dart launcher in a surprise attack.

Skills:Infiltrators are a sort of unofficial collection of hired stealth specialists. While no actual thieves guild is tolerated to openly exist, a certain underground element will always survive in any established community, and the Mountain Kingdoms are no exception. With advanced training techniques in stealth and striking from the shadow, the Infiltrator is a formidable assassin and spy, able to slip behind enemy lines and strike without being seen.

He relies on his ability to move undetected and quickly disappear between strikes, flinging daggers, shooting concealable weapons, and whatever else gives him the upper hand in a fight. He does not fight fair, he fights to win, with little concept of an honorable victory (in fact, most Infiltrators scoff at the very idea) although their teachers do instill a certain moral code, and a loyalty to their homeland above others. Just don't ask them to share their gold, because loyalty only goes so far.

History:With 5 years learned to climb with building great places and mountains, with 8 years learned to have affinity for nocturnal animals like bats, owls and wolves mainly mountain.
Since 5 years already trained pitches and reached a great skill to 15 provability with great accuracy.
It has a great ability to dodge and reflection, greatly reducing the chance of being hit by an arrow or flying object.

Rumors:Hailing from Blister Peak Chapter in the Mountain Kingdoms, he is said to have short hair, brown eyes and fair skin. His athletic figure has been sighted rushing into battle with a friendly warcry of "Stand up and die!".
When girded for battle, he is known to wield his Mithril Throwing Darts and Vicious Charsteel Blade, and is arrayed in his Blackened Runeweave Bodysuit. Foes are said to wither before the might of his Final Edition of the Silent Foot.